


you can't have my soul

by avenqelic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Gen, I'm Sorry, Sad Ending, Slight description of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19448776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenqelic/pseuds/avenqelic
Summary: A handprint blazed above the soldier’s heart.The soldier was just a weapon.





	you can't have my soul

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my second work on AO3 and my first work for this fandom. Comments and feedback are highly appreciated. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Title from The Darker The Weather // The Better The Man by MISSIO

A handprint blazed above the soldier’s heart.

It set him aflame, imprinted above his ribcage, leaving five blazing trails, pushing him down with every burning breath. His skin prickled and peeled, melted and sunk into the ground, pooling into the cracked concrete.

Red eyes and white lights, red blood and white noise. Days and nights blended into timelessness, endlessness, infinities spent in limbo in between breathing and not, bleeding and not, screaming and not. He could see nothing but white and red, pristine floors and bloodstains, red staining white roses.

He didn’t know who was doing this, or what they had done.

He could see his left foot out of the corner of his eye if he really strained, and he could barely look for more than a half second. It was mottled purple and black, twisted eighty degrees in the wrong direction. He couldn’t feel his toes, but his ankle throbbed so badly he almost passed out any time he tried to move.

The soldier had been through worse, but he was so tired. Tired of losing himself to his screams, tired of shaking sobs and trembling hands, tired of giving himself up over and over and over for nothing in return, for nothing but another finger pointing him in another direction to end up right back here.

It won’t ever end. Even if he got out, he would end up back here. It may not be the same place, but it will be the same pain. He was just a weapon to them.

Weapons weren’t supposed to feel, but the soldier felt.

He felt, and he cried.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Comments and kudos keep me going ;) Talk to me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/avenqelic)


End file.
